Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Alberto the dancer

Fotografia " Mario Benedetti" by GORKA LEJARCEGI

The silence is one and then broken by an exclamation, sometimes a happy one, sometimes a disappointed one. The tango “Nostalgias” is playing on the old radio; he is quietly sitting and listening to the lyrics extraordinarily being interpreted by the greatest Roberto Polaco Goyeneche.

I want to sink my heart in wine
to forget a crazy love
that more than love, is suffering…
And that's what I'm here for,
to erase those old kisses
with other lips' kisses.
If her love was short-lived,
why is this cruel obsession
always living in me?
I want to drink for both of us
to forget my passion,
but instead I remember her even more.

Music feeds his soul, transporting him to the past. He just need to close his eyes and let the music magically take him back to the dance place where he use to be one of the best dancers of his time…

Nostalgia
for listening her crazy laughter,
for feeling her fire-like breath
next to my lips…
The agony
of feeling dumped
and thinking that soon another will
talk to her about love…
Brother,
I don't want the humiliation
of begging, crying,
of telling her I can't live without her.
From my sad solitude
I will see the falling of the lifeless roses
of my youth.

His entry into the dance place is always noticed, someone like him can’t be missed: he is tall, well proportioned, dark black hair and green eyes. His hat is strategically positioned so as to give him that “macho” look that every woman loves. Within seconds and almost imperceptibly he scrutinizes the room, looking for her, looking for the one that has stolen his heart. When he notices her, hiding behind her friends, his heart drops, his blood circulation rises and fear takes control.
She broke his heart, she made him believe he was the only one, the man of her life, but that was far from being true. She played with all, put everyone under her dangerous spell but she never commits to anyone… as rumors said her heart was broken too, so now she is taking her revenge.

Whine, bandoneon, your heartbreaking tango
perhaps you also are in pain
for a broken love…
Cry my silly, lonely and
sad soul tonight,
dark, starless night.
If drinks bring relief,
here I am with my sorrow
to drown it at once.
I want to drown my heart with wine
to then make a toast
to my defeated love.

As soon as the tango finishes Alberto returns to the present, stands up and walking slowly joins his friends at the table, they are playing cards, having fun.
He is a seventy-five years old happy man, with three children and eight grandchildren who love him very much. Against their will he moved into the hospice two years ago, when he knew that he could not live on his own any longer. He refused to move in with them, needing to be with people like him, people of his generation with whom he shares similar interests. At the hospice he feels part of something; he found a place where he can give as much as he has received in life. Whenever he sees any of his peers down, Alberto’s mission is to cheer them up. He sings a tango to them while playing an old bandoneon; sometimes he entertains them with his adventures as an international dancer, or takes them for a walk pointing out all the beautiful things on their path. Sometimes he just sits and listens to what they have to say or to their silence… he is there for them and for himself, as he is receiving as much as he is giving!

© 2009 Gabriela Abalo – Author


Note: Tango "Nostalgias" - great composition of Argentine musician Juan Carlos Cobian to the poem by Enrique Cadicamo, from the moment of creation (mid 30s) has been an unique expression of a tango

I invite you to listen to the Tango Nostalgias at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SU9ZP2pbqyU I’m sure you will enjoy it very much as you will have a taste of Alberto’s favorite tango.

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4 comments:

Bunda said...

Very touching, when we are old and grey I hope we are happy and not regretting what we lost in form love.

Inspiring gabi

Gabriela Abalo said...

Thank u dear Bunda,

what gets old is our body and not our spirit, we are always young! As Alberto we shall not forget that.

love
Gabi

Sherry Bakhtian said...

I really like Alberto!

Love,
Sherry

Gabriela Abalo said...

I'm glad u do.

thank u Sheery!

Love
Gabi